HalfBloods and the Party Pony Panty Raid
by Morwen Tindomerel
Summary: The story behind that centaur in the prom dress, four years before Percy Jackson comes to Camp Half-Blood
1. The Party Ponies Make A Panty Raid

My name is Mark Service and I am a son of Ares, yeah, the Ancient Greek god of war _that _Ares. First off I want to say my Dad is not a bad guy. I mean sure he's about death and violence but he's also about strength, valor, friendship and loyalty. Besides, if it weren't for mortals there'd be no war for him to be god of so talk about the pot calling the kettle black!

My mom is Major Pamela Service US Army. You know that motto 'Army Strong' well whoever came up with it was thinking of Mom. When I was seven days old, and Mom had been out of bed for only three, she took a _cyclops_ apart with her bare hands _that's_ how badass my Mom is – and shows that brains and skill beat brute force any day of the week.

The cyclops was sent by Aphrodite, ditto for the rest of the monsters that showed up with monotonous regularity (Mom's phrase) as I was growing up. As you probably know, if you know anything about Greek mythology, Dad and the Cyprian have been an item for about three thousand years. The Immortal Bimbo's got a real hate on my Mom because Dad _really_ likes her, which extends to me – yeah, like we care.

I've been spending my summers at Camp Half-Blood since I was ten year old. I saw Callie my very first day and maybe the Immortal Juvenile Delinquent (Eros) shot one of his arrows at me because I couldn't get her out of my head. Callie is a daughter of Aphrodite and she is beautiful – not pretty, not glamorous, beautiful – inside as well as outside, she must get it from her dad. Anyway Callie makes her sisters look like the plastic dolls they are (okay, maybe not Silena and a _few_ of the others). So I tried to get her to notice me; pulling her hair every time I got the chance, tripping her as the Aphroditans passed on their way to their table in the dining pavilion, blowing spitballs at her in Greek class – hey, I was ten!

Thing is Callie had another admirer; Polypoetes Stone, son of Hephaestus (note: it does not pay to have a mortal parent up on her Ancient Greek!). The Smith of the Gods is of course Aphrodite's husband (see why I call her a bimbo?) so needless to say he and my dad do _not _get along. Anyway Poly started playing tricks on me in retaliation for bugging Callie, and being Hephaestus' son he's real clever, not to mention good with his hands. So I pounded him, which made Callie notice me all right but not in a good way. And that was situation prior to the Party Pony Panty Raid.

…

I was jerked out of a sound sleep in the dark way before the dawn by what sounded like a major battle in the commons, that's the space enclosed by the U of our cabins; furious screams, deeper whoops and howls and the clash of bronze blades. I pulled my armor on over my t-shirt and briefs, grabbed my sword and joined the crowd exiting our cabin, hurtling over the barricade in front of the door rather than going round, which was lame.

The bonfire in the middle of the commons was leaping high and red and Artemis' cabin glowed bright silver giving plenty of light to see the centaurs assaulting Cabin Ten, Aphrodite's Cabin where Callie was.

There are two kinds of centaurs: Chiron, our camp activities director who's been training demigods literally forever – and all the rest who are…. Well imagine a drunken biker gang with literal horses' asses and it'll give you the basic idea. Centaurs don't count as monsters any more than satyrs and nymphs do so the magic barrier defending the camp hadn't stopped them – which was bad.

The Athenans were pouring out of the cabin opposite ours, also fully armed. Without a word exchanged the twenty odd of us formed a phalanx and hit the Ponies from the rear. We sank into them like a celestial bronze spear into a target a few of us, including me, winning through to the cabin.

It was chaos inside with four or five Ponies crashing around trying to ward off some seriously pissed Love children who were giving a darn good account of themselves - a lot better than you'd expect from the way they train. But hey, you want to get an Aphroditan fighting mad, wake her up in the middle of the night when she's got her hair in curlers and cold cream smeared all over her face. Those girls were ready to kill and so were the guys! We fought in a blizzard of lingerie from smashed footlockers with the shards of broken mirrors crunching under foot and hoof.

I jumped on a bunk feeling the springs give under me and bounced off onto the back of the nearest centaur then threw my sword belt around his neck as a garrot and twisted. His legs gave way and we crashed to the floor with Aphroditans, Areans and Athenans piling on and flailing away with fists and shields and brushes and curling irons. There was something like an explosion from the back of the cabin then vines were crawling in from all directions trapping Pony and camper alike in their writhing green coils.

…

Mr. D, aka Dionysus (hence the vines) was mad as hell over his lost sleep and turned the captured Ponies into bottle nosed dolphins before banishing them with a gesture to the arctic ocean. Chiron was red with fury and shame as he circulated among the wounded passing out squares of ambrosia to those of us with just bruises and cuts, while the Apollans patched up the more seriously hurt. But not even Mr. D felt inclined to blame old Chiron, it wasn't as if we all didn't have plenty of embarrassing relations of our own. On the other hand we campers were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. Between the hundred or so of us we'd managed to take down some twenty or thirty Ponies. Considering we're talking about a couple of tons of horse/man four to one was a darn good ratio. The other kids sat around the fire munching their ambrosia and exchanging war stories but I stayed on my feet looking for Callie. I didn't find her but I did find Polypoetes, sporting a big black eye and a worried look.

"Have you seen Callie?" was the first thing out of his mouth.

By now I was so worried myself that I gave him a straight answer, "No."

"I just came from the Big House, she's not up there with the wounded," he went on. "If she's not here either –"

I cut in at that point shouting, "Chiron!"

…..

"So, one kid more or less, what's the diff?" was Mr. D's reaction to the news as he lolled in his lazy-boy chugging a diet coke.

I did a slow burn but didn't open my mouth. It wasn't like his attitude came as any surprise we all knew how Mr. D felt about heroes. Poly elbowed me hard as if I was about to do something stupid. I elbowed him right back, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Chiron breathed out a sigh that was nearly a snort. "We are responsible for the girl, Mr. D."

"It's a real bad idea to piss off her mom," I pointed out. Nobody knew better than me how nasty Aphrodite could get.

"Phooey," was Mr. D's answer. "Aphrodite has more brats then she can keep track of. Let her save the kid if she cares, nobody else does."

"_We_ do sir," said Poly, taking the words right out of my mouth.

"Well _I _don't. You want to rescue the fair maiden be my guest. _I _am going back to bed!"

I'd reached the end of my rope and was about to do something totally un-smart when Chiron nearly knocked me on my butt pushing between me and the lazy-boy. "Go back to bed, boys," he said firmly.

Poly dragged on my arm so I left pulling free the minute the door shut behind us. "Lemme alone."

"Sure," he said. "I thought you'd want to come but if you'd rather go to bed like a baby that's fine by me -"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I snarled. "Go where?"

"To rescue Callie of course," he answered. "Weren't you listening? Mr. D just gave us a quest."

"Huh?" then I remembered. "Hey, he didn't mean that."

Poly gave me this totally fake innocent blue-eyed look. "Sure he meant it, go rescue her yourself he said."

Hey, I may be slow but not that slow. I found myself grinning like crazy. "He did, didn't he? We got permission."

"Sure we do," Poly agreed looking pretty wicked himself.

Trouble was Party Ponies move around. This herd could be anywhere in New York state – and Callie too. "Where do we start looking?" I asked, feeling all discouraged again.

"We ask the Oracle of course," Poly said so smugly I felt like hitting him.

…

The Oracle is a spirit of prophecy currently inhabiting the mummified corpse of its last keeper – yecch _major_ creep out. We keep her – it? – in the attic. Other than that the attic of the Big House is a real cool place, full of hero trophies like pickled monster parts, Hermes' spare sandals, Achilles' broken shield, that kind of thing piled on tables, on shelves and on the floor. The mummy hung out at the far end, perched on a tall three legged stool and leaning drunkenly against the gable window, a shriveled bag of bones dressed like a 60s flower child. I was _really_ hoping she'd ignore us like she usually does seekers but no such luck. Slowly she creaked upright turning her leathery face with its white slits of eyes towards Poly and me. We both took a step back, resisting the urge to run for it.

Then it got worse. She opened her mouth but instead of a voice green mist poured out with a hiss that somehow formed words in our heads; _I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. _No duh._ Approach, seeker, and ask. _

We stayed right where we were, which was already too close, but said in ragged unison; "Where is Callie Frank?"

The mist collected itself off the floor into a shape, Callie's shape but green and not nearly so pretty. Her lips moved but it was the Oracle's voice that came out of them: O_n the Hill of Watch, seek for that which you have lost. Valor and skill united shall prevail but both must pay the cost. Warring gods, enemy sons shall reconcile. And fair contention's daughter freed from bonds, make all right with her smile. _

Poly beat me to the trap door – but not by much!


	2. We Take A Wrong Turn

There was still a lot going on down at the cabins. People were talking around the fire or roaming the fringes of the forest with weapons at ready hoping for more trouble. Inside Cabin 10 the Love children were tidying up with the help of besotted campers from other cabins. Nobody but Poly and me seemed to have noticed Callie was missing yet.

"Meet you at Thalia's Tree," Poly said and headed off for Cabin 9.

Luck was on my side, Cabin 5 was empty. I pulled on a pair of jeans then put my camo jacket on over my armor stuffing ambrosia squares from the First Aid kit in one pocket and the mortal money Mom gives me every summer for emergencies in another. I pulled my weapons box out from under my bed and belted on my colt – yeah, we use guns, special ones that have been adapted to shoot celestial bronze bullets instead of lead. These days I prefer to get up close and personal but back when I was ten our relative sizes made it good idea to keep as much distance as I could between me and the monsters.

I got to the pine tree that used to be Thalia Daughter of Zeus before Poly but I didn't have to wait long. Like me he was still wearing his armor but had covered it up with a windbreaker and of course he had that hulking big tool belt the Smith god's kids always wear. There was a weird gun shaped thing riding on his left hip topped by a glass bulb full of twisting glowing green light, a Greek fire thrower. It looked like we were on the same page about ranged weapons.

We walked down the hill toward Montauk, the nearest town. "First thing we gotta do is find this 'Hill of Watch'," I said.

"That's easy," Poly answered, "it's on Fire Island."

I stared. "Huh?"

"Watch Hill is a national park," he explained. "It's got a marina and camp grounds."

Camp grounds, just the place to look for Ponies. "Why'd they want to take Callie anyway?" I wondered.

Poly shrugged. "Centaurs are always carrying women off in the old stories."

"Yeah, _women._ Callie's _ten_!"

"She'll grow up," Poly answered grimly.

True. Eight, ten years was nothing to a centaur. "It's too far to walk, so how are we going to get there?"

Poly took out a drachma. "I figured the Gray Sisters taxi –"

"Forget it! I want to arrive alive thank you!"

"They've never crashed," he argued.

"Yet! I say we take a bus."

"Yeah, well who died and made you boss? Anyway you need regular type money for the bus."

"I got money," I told him. "You take the taxi if you want I'm going by bus!"

Poly rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, I can see it now. Pair of ten year old kids pop up in the middle of the night and try to buy tickets to Fire Island. We'll have Family Services types all over us in seconds."

"It's almost morning," I said just to be contrary but I saw his point. Fact is being a young kid is horribly inconvenient when you're on a quest. Grown-ups are always trying to 'help' you and getting in your way. "Well I'm not taking the taxi!"

"Fine," he shouted. "I'll rescue Callie alone!

"Like hell you will tool-boy –"

Now the thing about Half-Bloods is we don't focus so well, that's why we get labeled ADHD. Even while we yelled at each other Poly's attention and mine kept darting around alert to any little movement – and not even a daimon can sneak up on you without moving.

The mormolykeia howled in disappointment as Poly and I whirled to face them, back to back, swords drawn. What in hell is a mormolykeia? Glad you asked! They're underworld spirits who look kinda like the wolf pretending to be Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother and drink bad children's blood and eat their flesh. We Half-Bloods pride ourselves on being _very _badchildren – as Poly and I proceeded to prove on this particular set of mormolykeia's hairy butts.

They slunk around us, snarling and snapping, looking for weakness which they did not find. Hephaestus' kids maybe nerdy tech-heads and too smart for their own good but they're tough, and I was a son of Ares which means not only do I like to fight but I'm really, really good at it.

"Alright already," I said after a less than a minute (ADHD remember). "Get on with it, will you!"

A mormolykeia took me at my word and leapt. I dropped to one knee, sweeping my sword upward ripping its underside open. The good thing about fighting monsters is it's neat. Instead of blood and guts I was showered with sand as the mormolykeia disintegrated. A second one tried to take me from the side I rolled onto my back and gave it a double kick to help it over like it was a large furry volleyball. Poly stuck it and it fell apart too. Presumably he'd already taken care of the third because there was no sign of her as I got to my feet.

"So," he said. "You want to be a target or do we call the taxi?"

What could I say? "Okay, call 'em."

Here's a free piece of advice; if you're a Half-Blood steer clear of trios of old ladies – they are never good news. Trust me on this, I know what I'm talking about. I had ridden in the Gray Sister's Taxi from Hell (quite literally) once through no fault of my own and was in no hurry to repeat the experience but even I had to admit it was less risky then fighting our way to town through the frustrated monsters hanging out on the wrong side of the Camp's magic border - maybe.

You get the taxi the same way you send an Iris message – a golden drachma and an invocation. "Stop, Chariot of Damnation," Poly intoned in Ancient Greek. He wasn't swearing that's really what it's called – and it deserves the name.

The ground bubbled and the taxi rose from it like gray smoke, for the excellent reason it _is_ smoke, but that's only the start of the reasons not to ride it. A window rolled down (don't ask me how) and a Gray Sister poked her head out. She was not the one currently wearing the eye. "Passage? Passage?"

"We want to go to the Centaur encampment –" Poly began.

"Right! Right! Get in."

I could still have run for it but instead I got in after Poly – I wasn't about to risk him getting to Callie before I did! The taxi took off like a rocket and judging by the jolting the sisters weren't bothering to go by road. I tried to look on the bright side nobody was calling out directions so at least the sister with the eye was doing the driving – for once. Thing about the Gray Sisters is they have only one eye and one tooth between them and spend all their time fighting about whose turn it is to use them next. Yeah, I know, weird. Welcome to my life.

It was a mercifully short ride, not like my last. Luckily this time I used the seatbelt – even if it was an iron chain – otherwise I'd have gone through the windshield when the taxi screamed to a halt.

"Out! Out! Out!" Wasp (yes that is really her name) screamed and then to her sisters. "My turn! My turn!"

"No, mine!" Tempest yelled.

Anger was slapping away her sisters' clutching hands as Poly and I hastily climbed out. Then the ground bubbled and the taxi sank into it, somebody else must have called for a cab.

We were standing on a big green lawn dotted with oak trees and sloping down to the banks of a little river on our left. Straight ahead was a rambling old fashioned house, one of the expensive kind with shingles all down the sides and wide porches and behind it was a line of white sand beach and the slate-blue waters of the Sound. To the right I could see small, brightly painted cottages surrounded by flowerbeds and winding gravel paths. I saw centaurs tending the flowers or trotting along the paths but they didn't look like party ponies. In fact they looked like…

"May I help you?" a female voice said behind us and you could tell she really meant 'What do you think you're doing here?'

Poly and I wheeled around to find ourselves looking up, up past pair of bay forelegs and broad horse's chest to a starched blouse, woolly cardigan and a stern, librarian-like face with the kind of sparkly wing shaped glasses you see on old ladies and reddish hair twisted up in a bun.

I swallowed hard and looked at Poly. He looked back. These were _definitely _the wrong centaurs!


	3. We Make Friends and Influence People

Remember when I said there were two kinds of centaurs, Chiron and all the rest? I'd forgotten about the third, the centaurides or lady centaurs. They live apart from the Party Pony types raising the colts and fillies, a sort of separation with visitation rights kind of arrangement. I knew about them but I hadn't known they had a colony on Long Island. Thanks a lot Gray Sisters!

"Um – uh …." Poly got his voice back first. "I.. I'm sorry ma'am. We were looking for somebody else –"

"Party Ponies not Pretty Ponies," I said, which was a mistake because centaurides don't like their nickname.

Poly kicked me hard right on the greave which I hoped hurt him more than me. "Don't mind him, ma'am, he's a son of Ares, you know what they're like!"

"Hey!"

"Yes indeed." She slid her glittery glasses down her long nose and looked at me over them. "I will thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, young hero." She glanced back at Poly, "And what is Chiron thinking letting two colts like yourselves wander loose?"

"We're on a quest –"Poly began.

"We got permission from Mr. D," I put in quickly - sort of any way.

"Last night some Party Po – I mean centaurs raided our camp and carried off one of the campers, a daughter of Aphrodite named Callie –"

"A daughter of Aphrodite?" the lady centaur had been frowning all along but now it didn't seem to be directed at us. "That's foolish."

"Right," Poly went on. "Like my companion said Mr. D gave us the job of getting her back but the Gray Sisters brought us here instead of taking us to Watch Hill."

"Careless of them," she observed.

"Yes ma'am," Poly and I chorused with feeling.

The lady centaur shrugged. "I am Hylonome, welcome to Riveroak Ranch. You may stay for breakfast."

"Thank you, ma'am," we said.

….

Centaurs _love_ oatmeal it's their horse half you know. Chiron eats _gallons_ of the stuff so Poly and I weren't at all surprised to find a huge trough of it right in the middle of the long table set up on the river side porch of the big house. But luckily that wasn't all there was for breakfast, there were platters of eggs and sausage, stacks of pancakes, loafs of toast and pitchers of milk and orange juice but we had to fight our way through a pack of hungry colts to get anywhere near the table and they had the weight advantage. Boy ponies are about what you'd expect seeing what they grow up into; big, tough and pushy. The girls wear ribbons in their hair and braided in their tails and look down their long noses at the boys. Yeah, a _lot_ like humans.

Poly and I retreated, him with a half-empty platter of eggs and sausage, me with a plate of toast in one hand and a pitcher of what turned out to be milk in the other, settled ourselves under a tree to gobble down egg and sausage sandwiches and argue about what to do next. Though to be fair it wasn't much of an argument.

"No more Gray Sisters!" I said as soon as I'd swallowed my first mouthful.

"I wasn't going to suggest it," Poly answered defensively.

"So we take the bus."

"No," I opened my mouth to argue. "We'll get my mom to drive us." My mouth stayed open and he continued; "We live in Manhasset, that's not too far from here."

"You _live_ on Long Island?" I said incredulously.

"A lot of people do, regular people, not demigods or centaurs or whatever."

"I didn't mean that," I explained. "I mean it costs a fortune to live here, your folks must be loaded."

"I guess," he shrugged. "They're in computers."

That explained it alright. "So we can walk there?"

"I was kind of hoping to get a ride."

"You gotta be kidding!"

Centaurs do not like to be ridden. At camp you know you're badly hurt when Chiron gives you a lift back to the Big House after capture the flag. It was my considered opinion that even asking Hylonome or one of the other lady centaurs was a good way to get your head kicked in. I should have known Poly didn't mean to ask a grown-up.

He looked around then made a beeline for a pair of colts playing catch with a soccer ball, so I followed to see what he had in mind. They looked about our age which meant they were twenty or so (like satyrs centaurs age half as fast as humans and live two or three times as long). One was a chestnut with brown hair, the other a palomino with blond and they were about two feet taller than we were thanks to the pony bottom half.

They stopped tossing the ball and eyed us suspiciously. "What do you want half-blood?" the Palomino asked like it was an insult.

"You ever been off this ranch?" said Poly. The two colts looked taken aback and I let go of my hilt. This was starting to look like a good time to let the smart kid talk. "Ever seen the real world?"

The chestnut gave this high whinny. "Why'd we want to? There's nothing out there but you two legged freaks."

I decided it was time to put in my drachma's worth: "Forget it, Poly, they're too scared of their mommies."

The ponies looked murderous, Poly surprised then approving. "You're right I forgot centaurs are all henpecked."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Everybody knows Pretty Ponies rule. These two won't do anything mommy won't like.

"Forget I said anything," Poly told the two steaming pony-boys. "It's not important." And the two of us walked off. "You're pretty smart for a son of Ares," he added under his breath.

He was probably trying to make me mad but it didn't work. "I get my brains from my mom," I agreed. Even Dad says so.

A thunder of hooves on turf and the two pony-boys were on either side of us. "What did you have in mind?" asked the blond one.

…..

The chestnut was Eurytus and the palimino Plexippus – everybody you meet in the myth world has names like that so get used to it – and they weren't bad guys once they dropped the attitude. Luckily we'd finished our conversation and they'd gone elsewhere by the time Hylonome tracked us down.

"Time for you to be on your way, young heroes," she said.

"Yes, ma'am, thank you, ma'am," said Poly, laying it on with a trowel. It didn't hurt.

She escorted us down a very long drive to an unfriendly looking metal gate with a large sign which I guessed had the ranch's name on it above a smaller one saying probably saying something like 'Trespassers will be prosecuted'. I didn't bother to try to decipher them. You see in addition to ADHD half-bloods suffer from Dyslexia because we're hardwired to read ancient Greek. That was probably quite an advantage back when we all lived in ancient Greece but not so much now. Beyond the gate a dirt road led to a bridge across a good sized creek and joined up with another dirt road going due south.

"Just follow Beach Road," Hylonome said pointing at it, "and you will soon be back among your own kind." Then she wheeled around and galloped away without another word. Nice.

We trudged towards the bridge. "But are they?" Poly muttered.

"Are who what?"

"Mortals," he explained. "Are they our kind?"

"I guess," I said doubtfully.

Poly thought. "I don't think so," he said at last. "We have to deal with a whole other world than they do."

"But we spend a lot of time in theirs," I argued uneasily, I didn't much like this conversation. "Our mothers are mortals."

"Yeah, and our fathers are gods," Poly scuffed his feet in the dirt of the road. "We're not one thing or the other. We're in between and get grief from both sides."

Wow was that a depressing thought! True though. "You think about this stuff a lot?"

"All of the time."

"Well, keep it to yourself, okay?"

We reached the road and turned south as directed. Our rides joined up about half a mile on at another bridge. Eurytus and Plexippus were wearing uneasy expressions and had their bows and quivers full of arrows slung across their backs.

Poly took a road map of Long Island out of a pocket on his tool belt and unfolded it handing one end to me and holding it up so the pony-boys could see. "Okay, we're here," he said pointing. "I say we leave the road and head back towards the river then follow it to the other coast where we can pick up the road to Manhasset."

"It's your home town," I shrugged. Yury and Plex had nothing to say and from the look of them they were starting to regret coming.

….

Poly climbed aboard Yury and I took Plex. The two set off at an alternating walk–trot over ground covered with tussocks of yellowish beach grass and scattered clumps of scrub. But on the other side of the greeny brown water we were velvety green lawns, tennis courts and the backs of mansions just visible through stands of trees.

"Is that how mortals live?" Plex asked.

I snorted, "Only the rich ones."

"Rich?" Yury repeated blankly, not getting the concept at all.

"Some mortals have nicer houses and more stuff than others because they have more money." Poly explained helpfully.

"Why?" asked Plex, who was clearly not getting it either.

"Well, usually because they do or make things that other people want and will pay for," said Poly, no doubt thinking of his folks.

"And sometimes because they've inherited it from their parents," I added thinking of the kids at my last school.

"Sounds complicated," Yury said dubiously.

"It is,"said Poly.

We hit the beach shortly after that and turned onto a winding paved road. We all tensed up a bit. We were counting on the Mist to keep mortals from noticing anything odd about us if it didn't work we were in big trouble.

The houses were more mansions, set well back from the road and screened by trees. Occasionally we caught a glimpse of a lawn guy riding a mower or heard splashing and laughter from a hidden swimming pool. Expensive cars slowed as they passed but nobody hit the brakes or made a screeching u-turn so we figured the Mist was working like it should and all the mortals were seeing was a couple of kids on ponies - the kind that are all horse I mean.

After several miles of this our winding lane straightened out and widened to three lanes with regular suburbs on one side and a sprawling mall on the other. Poly and I went in to the food court to buy some lunch – it took both of us to carry it all as centaurs have _huge_ appetites, especially after a five or six mile trot. We took the burgers, dogs, fries and shakes to a bench in a nearby park where we could eat in peace and when we hit the road again we were full, a little sleepy and nowhere near as alert as we should have been.

I heard what sounded like the blaring of a really loud horn and looked behind to see something big and shiny gold bearing down on us. For a split second I thought it was just a semi-truck looking to pass but no way we could be that lucky. "Incoming!" I shouted hauling Plex by the shoulders for all I was worth, trying to steer him out of the behemoth's way.


	4. I Shoot The Bull

It was a bull. A bull the size of semi made of celestial bronze, its hooves striking sparks from the pavement as it charged down Shore Road with fire breathing from its permanently flared nostrils. One quick look over his shoulder and Plex took off like Secretariat scrabbling for his bow and an arrow. With all due respect to centaur archery I couldn't see how that was going to do us much good or, my colt either.

Yury passed us like a long low streak of brown lightning with Poly crouching on his back like a jockey, "RUN!" they shouted together. Now there was a plan I could work with! We galloped neck and neck down a side street - gods only know what the mortals were seeing. The buildings on our right opened up and the ponies jumped off the road into a scrubby field with plenty of cover. We hid in a clump of trees while the bull went snorting and rooting around looking for us.

Plex raised his bow. "No," I said in my best 'command voice'. "You'll just get his attention."

"He'll track us down anyway," he argued.

"I got a plan," Poly said suddenly. We all looked at him. "That's an automata right? Well I'm a son of Hephaestus if I can get close enough I can turn it off."

I looked at the huge, snorting creature. "Um, how close is close?"

"On its back," he admitted.

Yury gave a loud whinny, "You've got to be kidding!"

"We wish," I said. The smart kid had guts and I'd been on the receiving end of his plans often enough to know he was cunning with it. "What do you have in mind?"

…

Plex ran like a steeplechaser hurtling over bushes and ditches, weaving like crazy as his breath came in heaving pants. Hanging on for dear life I shot a look over my shoulder; nope, wasn't working – and not just because the darn bull was gaining on us. It was weaving as much as Plex and Yury couldn't stay alongside long enough for Poly to make the jump.

"Slow down!" I hollered in Plex's ear. "I'm getting off."

He slowed all right, in sheer astonishment. "You're what?"

But I'd already made my leap, landed on a nice soft tussock and rolled to my feet colt in hand. My first shot pinged off the bull's big fat face getting his attention. He veered away from Plex and headed for me in a straight charge. I held my ground, blood singing in my ears. I'm a son of Ares I _live_ for the fight and I wasn't scared a bit now that I wasn't running anymore. I took more care with my second shot and one red glowing eye went out with a ping. It was less than twenty feet away now, my vision had narrowed to its flared, fire exhaling nostrils and my third shot went right up one – Heeyah! Then it was veering aside, missing me by inches and knocking me off my feet with the wind of its passage, Poly clinging to its beefy neck. By the time I'd got up he'd worked his techie magic and the thing had collapsed on the ground in a golden bronze heap.

Plex came trotting up to me, panting and blowing, eyes wild, "You crazy or something?"

"Yup," that was Poly, heading back to join us. He gave me a look of respect – his first. "That was insane, brave but insane!"

I snorted, "Says the kid who played rodeo rider!"

"They're both nuts," Yury told Plex.

He nodded agreement, "Heroes!"

"Yeah, well we'd have been toast without you two," I said and watched our centaur buddies expand with pride.

"Got that right," Yury said happily.

"That was a real adventure, wasn't it?" Plex wanted to know.

"Absolutely!" Poly and I said in rough unison.

….

The rest of our trip was uneventful, well a cop did stop us in Port Washington to read us a lecture on riding ponies on a major road but luckily he either couldn't hear Plex and Yury's snorts of indignation or interpreted them as horse-noises.

Poly lived in a rambling white house within sight of the beach big but not grand, a sort of colonial ranch. He went inside and came out again carrying two six-packs of cokes. He and I took one each then left the rest for Yury and Plex to chug down while Poly led me to the opposite end of the house and through a side door into a big bay windowed room full of electronic junk, with a little redheaded woman who looked a whole lot like Poly sitting at a worktable in the middle of it hunched over a job involving a magnifying lens and a lot tiny wires.

"Mom!"

"In a minute, Poly," she mumbled absently, intent on her work. Then the other shoe dropped and her head shot. "Polypoetes Stone, what are you doing home?"

"I'm on a quest, Mom, and I need your help."

"_We_ need her help," I corrected.

"Oh, right. This is my companion Mark son of Ares, and we got a couple of centaur boys in the backyard too."

I have to hand it to Mrs. Stone my own mom couldn't have taken it more coolly. "I see. Exactly what are you questing for and how can I help?"

We both opened our mouths to explain but first Mrs. Stone had us bring the Pony boys into the dining room put a couple of loaves of bread, assorted lunch meats and spreads on the table and let us at it. We scarfed down sandwiches and explained about Callie and the Party Ponies between bites.

"Mr. D _sent _you to rescue this little girl?" Mrs. Stone said in a way that suggested she'd met Mr. D.

"Oh yeah!" we said together.

She gave Poly the Look. You know, the one moms give you when they _know_ you're lying.

"Well… he did say if we wanted to rescue her we could," he admitted uneasily.

"But it's a real quest, ma'am," I put in quickly. "We've got a prophecy and everything."

"Right," Poly said eagerly. "O_n the Hill of Watch, seek for that which you have lost-"_

"Which means Callie," I said, and we know we can do it because she said _'Valor and skill united shall prevail'_ and that's obviously us."

"He's valor and I'm skill," Poly added, rather unnecessarily.

"Seems to me you're both pretty valorous," Yury remarked. "And the way Mark potted that bull definitely took skill."

"Bull," Mrs. Stone echoed. She gave Poly and me a long look as we shifted uncomfortably then said very firmly. "I do _not_ want to know. What else did the Oracle have to say?"

"_Valor and skill united shall prevail," _Poly repeated, "_but both must pay the cost."_ I frowned, what cost?_ "Warring gods, enemy sons shall reconcile." _He went on._ "And fair contention's daughter freed from bonds, make all right with her smile._

"We know who the warring gods are anyway," I said. "My dad and Poly's don't like each other one bit."

"Oh heck," he looked dismayed. "That bull, it wasn't just bad luck my dad sent it – after you!"

'Oh heck' didn't even begin to say it – but you can't use the kind of language that did in front of a mom. "And my dad's not going to let something like that pass." Darn right he wouldn't! Dad doesn't usually get involved in his kids' fights, he expects us to be able to handle ourselves, but he'd definitely make an exception for his least favorite brother going after his favorite son. I took a deep breath. "Fine, not to worry, whatever Dad sends I'll handle it like you took care of the bull."

Mrs. Stone sighed. "This is going to cost us another car isn't it, Poly?"

He gulped. "I hope not."

I thought of the kind of monsters Dad controlled and I had to agree with Mrs. Stone. "Maybe we should take the bus."

"No," she said firmly. "I'm not having you endangering innocent bystanders and public property. Staying here won't be any safer for anybody. I might as well drive you to Fire Island. Better the car than the house!" she turned to the Pony boys, "And what about you two?"

"We're going back to the ranch," Plex said.

"Yeah," Yury agreed, "I'd say we've had all the adventure we can take for a while."

"You're going to get in trouble aren't you?" Poly asked looking guilty. I wasn't feeling so good about it myself. Plex and Yury weren't just a couple of annoying Pony-boys any more. We were comrades in arms now, their problem was ours.

"It'll be all right," Plex said confidently. "We'll go back along the beach like we said and slip into the ranch by way of the river mouth. As long as we're back before dinner nobody will have missed us."

I glanced at Yury but he didn't look worried either so I figured Plex wasn't just snowing us.

"Good luck," said Poly. "And thanks for everything."

"Yeah," I agreed. "We'd never have made it here without you two." And I wasn't snowing either.

….

Having your companion's mom drive you to battle seemed somehow wrong but is taking the bus any better? I kind of focused on the un-coolness of it all to keep my mind off the nasty things Dad could pull on us. To start with Mrs. Stone drove a white Volvo wagon, surely the un-coolest of all cars in the known universe. Then she made Poly and me take showers and change into fresh clothes – his stuff just fit me. And finally she packed overnight bags for all three of us. By the time she'd finished organizing everything it didn't seem much like a quest anymore. Sometimes the 21st century just bites.

"I Mapquested our route," Mrs. Stone said as we climbed in the wagon, Poly in the front passenger seat and me behind the driver. "It's basically a straight shot due east on I-495, should take us about an hour, gods willing."

"I hope he will be," I said thinking of one god in particular. "Please Dad," I prayed, "Let me handle this, okay? Of course if you want to keep Hephaestus too busy to bother us again I'd really appreciate it!"

I was not too sanguine about that prayer being answered. 'Sanguine' is one of Mom's fancy words; it means 'confident' but also 'blood'. And blood was what Dad would be going for after his favorite son nearly got squished – even if I asked him not to.


	5. We Kick Immortal Butt

I was watching the rearview so I was the first to spot them, a nasty looking gang of bikers all black leather, spikes and chains. Of course there are plenty of mortals who like to get themselves up like that so I wasn't sure until they got close enough for me to see their ugly faces and the flaming _alpha_ on their bikes.

"Styx!" Mrs. Stone swerved, startled. "Sorry about the language, ma'am, but we got trouble – the Machai."

"Say what?" Poly asked peering out the back window.

"Machai, spirits of battle," I explained. "They work for my dad. Pull off at the next exit, Mrs. Stone and find us a field or something. I'll take care of 'em."

"_We'll_ take care of them," Poly corrected.

I grinned at him. "Right you are smart boy."

Mrs. Stone swerved onto an exit ramp, the Machai right on our tail, then bounced off the road into a clump of trees that would hopefully hide the proceedings from mortal eyes. The immortal bikers pulled into a ring around us and dismounted. Chains and switchblades morphed into spears and swords and big bronze shields marked with the flaming _alpha_ appeared on their arms.

"Stay in the car, Mom," Poly instructed.

"Might be a good idea to get on the floor," I agreed and opened my door. I got out on the left side, Poly on the right. I gave ol' Polemos, the head Machai, my best evil grin. "Wanna piece of me war-guy?"

"Stand aside, Ares' kid, it's not you we're after," he answered.

"Mess with my companion you mess with me," I told him drawing my sword. A roar and a wash of green light came from the other side of the car as Poly unleashed his Greek fire-thrower. I charged Polemos, he tried to sidestep me but my charge was a feint and I was ready for him with a nice sidestroke under his shield, he howled and golden ichor dripped. He dropped his sword I picked it up and shoved it hilt deep under his cuirass. Sticky yellow stuff gushed out and he vanished. You can't kill godlings but you sure can make 'em run away!

I stood up, grinning evilly for all I was worth as four more Machai closed uncertainly around me. "Call yourselves spirits of battle? What a pitiful bunch of wimps! I mean is this the best Dad can do in the way of help?"

The two guys charged, I summersaulted of the way and heard the clang as they collided behind my back. I went on rolling forward, out of range, then onto my feet and took stock; the two guys were still down, stunned I guess, but the remaining two were female which meant they'd fight smarter – women aren't tempted to depend on brute strength they don't have. Worse they probably knew all the tricks Mom had taught me for dealing with bigger opponents.

Oh well, "Ares!" I took a running leap at the Machai to my left delivering a double kick right in the center of her shield and down she went. One of the guys was back on his feet and lurched drunkenly towards us I went under his guard with a _very_ illegal blow to an extremely personal place. He went bye-bye. I returned my attention to the lady, jabbing her through the eye. Three minutes into it and already three down, not bad for a ten year old kid! Seriously, small size and speed can be a genuine advantage when dealing with muscle heads like the Machai. Near as I can tell they haven't learned a new move in three thousand years - wanna talk predictable? The remaining two tried to double team me; didn't even come close to working. I feinted at the belly of one with my blade simultaneously clashing my shield against his partner's then got out of the way and let them take each other out - pitiful.

I looked around. No sign of the Machai but a Celestial bronze javelin had gone in Mrs. Stone's front seat window on the passenger side, and out of the driver side window. Also the hood was caved in like it'd hit something – like say an armored Machai. Some of the trees were burning but with ordinary orange flames not green - thank the gods – and there was a sound of approaching sirens in the distance.

Poly appeared around the back of the car. "All gone?"

"Yup. Yours?

"Same." He opened the driver's door. "Mom, you okay?"

"Just fine, Poly." Mrs. Stone unfolded herself from the floor and climbed out to survey the damage. "Another car totaled."

"Sorry, Mom."

"Sorry, Mrs. Stone."

She ruffled her son's hair. "I can't take you anywhere can I?"

…..

The cops had no trouble at all buying our story of a biker attack. Seemed a good number of fellow travellers hadn't liked the look of Club Machai one bit and called in their suspicions to the Highway Patrol. The cops listened respectfully to Mrs. Stone's yarn of being surrounded by bikers who smashed the wagon's windows then set fire to the trees before riding off, took notes and then drove us to the Hicksville train station where Mrs. Stone bought us two tickets for Patchogue – the nearest station to Watch Hill Park.

"I just hope I'm not going to regret this," she said. "Try not to destroy the Long Island Railroad, boys, please."

"Aw, Mom!" said Poly.

"We'll do our best, ma'am," I promised.

She smiled at me, "What a polite boy you are, Mark, not at all what I'd expected of a son of Ares."

A lot of people say that to me. "I'm my mom's son too, ma'am, and she's a lot tougher than my dad. Even he says so."

We were lucky, we found an empty car. I guess not many people want to go from Hicksville to Patchogue in the middle of a weekday afternoon. Poly and picked seats about halfway down and on either side of the aisle. I don't know about him but I immediately started praying to my dad.

"Okay, you've made your point. Now drop it, please. And by the way, Dad, you seriously need to get yourself better help. Those guys were pitiful."

The peace and quiet only lasted till the next stop. The doors at either end of the car jerked open and two big, ugly guys glared down the length of it at each other.

Guess who.

Poly and I both jumped out of our seats and headed in opposite directions. Back then I only came up to Dad's belt buckle so I gave him a punch in the solar plexus to get his attention (these days I go straight for the jaw). He retaliated with a clout on the ear, I rolled with it and side kicked at his knee bringing him down. He promptly got me in an arm-lock. I twisted and wriggled and got in a few good kicks to the abdomen before he finally let go. Then we sat down in the nearest pair of seats and inspected our bruises. Yes, as a matter of fact that _is_ how I greet my father. God of War, remember?

Dad was in his usual Bad Biker Dude guise with lots of black leather and steel studs, and a face pretty much like the one I use now but with different scars – and I have eyeballs instead of little flames in my sockets.

"Will you quit it, already?" I hissed. "You're messing up my quest!"

He gave me another clout to the head, more for punctuation than anything else. "You don't need any nerdy Hephaestus kid as a companion!"

"Hey, that nerd put paid to four of your Machai! Hades, Dad, but those guys were _lame_."

"Tell me about it," he agreed, smoldering. I gotta give 'em a little extra training."

My bet was it would hurt. "I do need Poly, Dad, the prophecy says so – and you know it's never any good trying to go against it." The Greeks used to write tragedies about that. "And he saved us from Hephaestus' automaton," I added.

Dad grinned. "I like the way you stood your ground, boy. You got guts."

"I'm my mother's son," I answered, and he laughed. Mentioning Mom always puts him in a good mood. "Poly's got guts too. You know you like that, Dad, even in one of Hephaestus' kids."

"True," he frowned, mulling it over. "Okay, kid. I'll swear hands off, but only if Hephaestus does too!"

"Fair enough," I said and we shook.

We got up and headed for the other end of the car. Poly and his dad were on their feet too, we met them half way.

Poly definitely favored his mom – lucky for him. My uncle Hephaestus is seriously ugly. He's got wiry black hair growing all over his face but it doesn't help much. He limped, dragging one leg in a brace and one shoulder was higher than the other. He glared daggers at my dad who returned it with interest.

"Dad will swear by the River Styx not to interfere with us any more if Uncle Ares will do the same," Poly said to me.

"Same here," I agreed and looked pointedly at my dad.

"I swear by the River Styx to leave the boys alone from now on – if you do!" he growled.

Hephaestus looked no happier than Dad. "And I swear, by the Styx, to keep the same oath – as long as you do." He tilted his misshapen head at me. "Smart kid you got there."

Some of the tension went out of the air. Dad actually grinned at his brother. "Gets it from his mother, your boy is quite a fighter. Love the flame thrower."

Hephaestus visibly relaxed. "Guess the important thing is for our sons to make hero."

Dad nodded hearty agreement. "Doing pretty well for ten year olds aren't they?"

Hephaestus grinned back at him - a horrible sight by the way. "Be the youngest heroes in centuries won't they?"

"Youngest ever, unless you count Heracles and his snakes," said Dad.

Poly and I exchanged stunned looks. Ares and Hephaestus were actually being civil to each other!

_Warring gods enemy sons shall reconcile._ Looked like we were on the right track!


	6. We Party with Ponies

"_On the Hill of Watch, seek for that which you have lost."_ Poly recited.

"Check," I said.

We'd (finally) made it to Fire Island and Watch Hill national park. We were currently on our stomachs in the meager cover of some seaside scrub with a fine ground-level view of centaur hooves. Lots and lots of centaur hooves.

"_Valor and skill united shall prevail, but both must pay the cost," _He went on.

"I bet that doesn't mean the drachmas you spent on the taxi or me paying for lunch at that food court," I said glumly.

"No," Poly agreed, gnawing a lip. "I don't know what that means."

"Paying a cost is never good," I told him.

He just sighed and started quoting again: _"Warring gods enemy sons shall reconcile."_

"Done that," I said.

"_And fair contention's daughter freed from bond, make all right with her smile,"_ Poly finished.

"First we've got to find her," I said. And that was _not_ going to be easy.

Our pony friends were breaking just about every rule in the brochure we'd picked up at the general store. They'd built about a dozen big bonfires, fueled with broken up picnic benches and trees and bushes pulled up by the roots. Every now and again a pony would throw a can of lighter fluid or bug spray into the flames producing a big boom, a mushroom cloud and a shower of flaming tinder. Smaller fires kept starting in the scrub only to be trampled out by the thundering hooves of herds, rather than teams, of ponies chasing a football around the camp. Ice chests full of beer were everywhere and steaks sizzled on grills until a hungry centaur snatched them up and gobbled them down without bothering with a plate, let alone silverware. Boom boxes were booming, centaurs howling and what with the smoke and churned dust you couldn't see for more than a dozen yards in any direction – and Callie was somewhere in the middle of all that.

"She must be scared to death," Poly muttered, saying what I was thinking.

"We gotta find her," I agreed. "You're the smart boy, come up with a cunning plan!"

He gnawed his lip some more. Then a warm breeze, not quite a wind, blew over our heads parting the smoke and dust like a curtain revealing a tipsy tent with its flap tied shut. Poly and I exchanged looks. Hey, we could take a hint!

Just then the football arced through one of the bonfires and flew, flaming, towards the beach with just about the whole herd of Party Ponies thundering after it. Somebody up there was definitely giving us a hand. We headed for the tent.

I sliced through the ties with my sword, shouldered it aside – and kissed dirt as a heavy platter flew towards my head. "I said **Leave! Me! Alone!**"

"Callie!" Poly cried behind me. And sure enough it was – and she looked furious not scared. What a girl!

Her curly blond hair was a tangled mess and she was wearing an explosion of pink tulle with the straps tied high on her shoulders and the skirts dragging on the ground. The fire went out of her eyes and they widened; "Poly?"

"And Mark," smart boy said. "We've come to rescue you."

I grinned climbing to my feet, "Though it looks like you've been doing pretty good on your own!"

"Stupid ponies," she said but looked pleased at the compliment.

Hooves thundered outside. "Speak of the devil," said Poly looking nervously over his shoulder.

"Quick, get inside and close the flap," Callie ordered, we obeyed. Hooves thundered shaking the tent's canvas walls and centaur voices whooped and howled. "Don't worry," Callie said, "they won't come in here." Not if they didn't want to be decapitated by a metal platter thrown by one _very_ pissed off daughter of Aphrodite they wouldn't!

I had a look around. The tent wasn't what you'd call comfortably furnished; there were some furs on the floor and a pile of smashed crates in one corner draped with fancy dresses like the one Callie was sort of wearing.

"Let me guess, they were after girls to party with," Poly said looking at the dresses.

Callie nodded. "That was the idea. I've let them know I'm _not_ in the mood."

"Then why the dress?" he asked.

She gave him a look. "I was in my _nightie."_

"Oh, right." Guess smart boy's brain didn't work so well around her – like mine.

I peeked out of the flap. "You know, I bet we could make it if we just ran for it. They look pretty unsteady on their hooves."

"I tried that," Callie said. "It didn't work."

Poly joined me looking out. "Yeah, but there was only one of you, and you were unarmed."

"Better fix that." I pulled out my colt, reloaded and handed it to her and she rewarded me with a smile that turned my brain to mush.

"Maybe when the game pulls them away from the tent…" Poly muttered behind us. Then; "Uh-oh!" he closed the flap in a hurry. "One of them's coming this way!"

"He won't come in," Callie said confidently.

I took a peek myself. "I think you're wrong." I grinned at Poly. "Let's get him!"

"Yeah!" Callie seconded eagerly. "I bet the three of us can take him!"

I was sure of it.

…

The centaur entered with his upper, man body bowed low to get through the flap and his attention on Callie, glaring at him from the far end of the tent. I had no trouble at all looping my belt around his neck and pulling him all the way down and then Poly was on his other side sword point at his throat.

"I'd keep very quiet if I was you," Callie said smugly, bringing the colt out from behind her back and aiming it at our captive. "This is Nessus, the raid was his idea."

"It was?" Poly grinned evilly. "In that case he owes us – say a ride back to camp."

"Over my dead body!" Nessus choked.

I gave him my best psycho-killer grin; "If you insist."

Five minutes later we exploded from the tent, tearing through scattering Party Ponies like a celestial bronze sword through a monster. I gripped the ends of an improvised bridle with one hand, my other arm wrapped around Nessus' human waist. Callie was behind me, also hanging on by one arm while taking pot shots with my colt in her free hand, and Poly behind her, holding on with both arms and trying not to slide off Nessus' horse's ass.

Once we were clear of the other ponies I hauled on the bridle turning Nessus' head eastward, towards camp. "You know the way," I shouted in his ear. "Basically, run!"

He ran like he had a pissed off son of Ares, a pistol wielding daughter of Aphrodite and a bronze bull riding son of Hephaestus on his back – which he did! And centaurs are _fast_, I mean like supersonic. It had taken Poly and me a day and a night to get from camp to Watch Hill – including wrong turns and monster attacks – it took Nessus about ten minutes to get us back. I reined him in under Thalia's tree.

Poly tumbled off Nessus' rear and helped Callie down. I stayed where I was, hanging on to the reins. "So, do we let him go now?" I asked.

Callie frowned like she didn't like that idea. Poly frowned too then an evil light came into his eye; "Not yet."

No doubt about it; smart boy has the _best_ ideas. We pranced into camp on Nessus' back Callie wearing the shorts and t-shirt Poly had stolen for her from the store and Nessus wearing her fluffy tulle prom dress. We paraded past the Big House, the volleyball court, the Arts and Crafts shop and across the bridge below the lake and by the time we came to a stop and dismounted in front of Cabin 10 we had practically the whole camp crowding around us, including Chiron and Mr. D.

"Soooo...the runaways return," said Mr. D, obviously contemplating what he should turn us into.

"No sir," I said promptly. "Not runaways, sir, questers."

His eyebrows went up. "Oho, and who gave you a quest, child?"

"You did, sir," Poly piped up beside me. "'You want to rescue the fair maiden be my guest,' you said."

Mr. D. opened his mouth but Chiron spoke first. "I'm afraid the boy is right, Mr. D. You did say that and it could be construed as permission," he turned a frown on us, "but I am _quite_ sure you boys realized Mr. D was not serious."

"Well…we weren't sure," Poly conceded. "But when the Oracle gave us a prophecy we knew we had a real quest."

Mr. D.'s eyebrows threatened to crawl right off his forehead. "The _Oracle_ spoke to you?"

"Yessir," Poly and I continued together; "O_n the Hill of Watch, seek for that which you have lost. Valor and skill united shall prevail but both must pay the cost. Warring gods, enemy sons shall reconcile. And fair contention's daughter freed from bonds, make all right with her smile."_

Mr. D. shrugged. "Okay, it was a quest. No skin off my nose." His eyes narrowed as he looked our prom gowned ride up and down. "And this is?"

"Nessus," Callie answered, "the raid was all his idea."

"Oh it was, was it," Mr. D. snapped his fingers and I hastily handed him Nessus' reigns "Come with me, centaur, and we'll have a little chat." He left, tugging a bug eyed and terrified Nessus behind him.

"Oh dear," Chiron muttered, and he headed after them.

Charisma Jones, who was counselor of Cabin 10 in those days, pushed her way through the crowd to hug Callie. And my counselor, Jack Crow, nearly knocked me off my feet with his congratulatory clout on the back. And Oscar Davis from Cabin Nine pumped Poly's hand grinning all over his soot smudged face and the other campers started to cheer.

We were home. And we were heroes.


	7. Nobody Gets the Girl

Since nobody'd known we were on a quest there were no shrouds to burn that night at the sing along but we got the laurel wreaths and the feast. I didn't enjoy it as much as you'd expect. Fact is I was worried about the prophecy – it wasn't over yet. Sure we'd gotten Callie and were safe back in camp but there was still that cost to be paid, and even at ten I knew enough about how life works for half-bloods to realize it'd be something I didn't want to lose – but what?

Then, right in the middle of a chorus of 'When Odysseus Comes Marching Home' it hit me. I was going to lose a friend. Poly and I had become a team on our quest. Heck, I'd learned to really like the guy; but now Callie was home and we were back to being rivals for her attention and enemies. My heart sank and I stopped singing. Sure, I remembered how the prophecy ended: _And fair contention's daughter freed from bonds, make all right with her smile. _I knew that meant Callie – but I didn't see how she could fix this. She couldn't have _two_ boyfriends! Looking over her head at Poly sitting on her other side I caught him looking back. Yeah, he'd figured it out too. We were screwed.

Eventually the sing along ended and people started heading for their cabins as the bonfire sank to glowing coals. Callie grabbed my hand. "I want to talk to you," she already had Poly's, "both of you. She pulled us away from the amphitheater towards the beach, in other words in the opposite direction from the one everybody else was going and she was pulling hard because I didn't want to go and neither did Poly. I mean did she really have to decide _now_ couldn't we just let things slide for a while?

When we got to fireworks beach there was somebody already there; a lady sitting on the sand with the romantic moonlight shining on her like her own personal spotlight, and she looked a lot like Callie. In fact she looked almost exactly like Callie does now. Guess who.

If Poly and I'd had any doubts Callie removed them, letting go of our hands to run to the lady's arms, "Mom!"

Aphrodite hugged her back smiling broadly, "My brave, brave girl. I'm so proud of you!" Okay, point one for the Immortal Bimbo, she really cared about Callie. I shouldn't have been so surprised. I mean I knew how my dad feels about me and I'd just seen Poly's dad was the same about him. In fact over the years I've come to realize that _all_ the gods love their half-blood kids, trouble is they don't always show it in ways we can understand.

Aphrodite looked up and Poly and I both took involuntary steps backward. She rolled her eyes. "Oh don't be so silly. I helped you save my daughter didn't I?" Well that explained that very convenient wind and the flaming football.

"You've also been trying to kill me all my life," I pointed out gripping my sword.

She shrugged. "So, I was a little jealous. I don't like sharing my lover."

"What's your excuse for messing with my mom?" Poly growled.

"Hephaestus is _my _husband," Aphrodite snapped back.

"So, what you're saying is you're allowed to cheat but they aren't?" I said. Callie winced and looked nervously up at her mother.

But Aphrodite didn't get mad she just shrugged again. "Love isn't reasonable, young hero. You should know that even at your age."

"Yeah but you can't love both our dads!" Poly argued.

"Can't I?" suddenly Aphrodite looked all tragic. I swear there were tears in her eyes then one trickled down her cheek. She looked so much like Callie that I hated to see her cry.

"Don't do that!" I said uncomfortably.

Poly wasn't as affected. "How can you cheat on somebody you love?" he demanded.

More tears poured down the goddess's face and I swear they were real not just manipulative. "How can I choose?" she answered, "And if I did, what would become of the other?" she spread her arms in a strangely helpless gesture. "They need me, Ares and Hephaestus both. My poor boys, they have so little love!" She dropped her arms and looked at us forlornly. "Can you understand that, children?"

The funny thing was I could – sort of. Nobody on Olympus likes dad, not even his own parents. And Zeus, or maybe Hera, threw Hephaestus off Olympus because he was ugly. I'd heard both stories and didn't really matter which it had been since the other hadn't stopped them. Maybe Aphrodite wasn't just a bimbo.

Poly seemed to be thinking the same way. "I guess. But my dad isn't very happy as things are – and I bet Ares isn't either!"

"They have moments of happiness," she promised, "great happiness. As many as I can manage." And thank all the gods she stopped crying. "I haven't seen them so friendly to each other for centuries, and I thank you for that too."

_Warring gods, enemy sons shall reconcile._

"You're welcome," Poly and I said in almost perfect chorus.

Aphrodite took out a handkerchief and wiped her face, then opened a compact to peer in the tiny mirror. "Look at me, I'm a mess! And it's all your fault, you naughty boys, making me cry!"

Darn if I didn't feel guilty! A glance at Poly showed him looking pretty sheepish too.

The goddess gave her reflection another little pout then snapped the compact closed bending to kiss the top of Callie's head. "Good luck, sweetheart. Now look away all of you."

I hastily obeyed gluing my eyes to the sand as she exploded into her blazing 'true' form and then vanished.

"Why is your mom wishing you luck?" Poly asked Callie suspiciously.

"Maybe we don't want to know," I muttered. For a smart boy he sure can be slow sometimes.

"I'm glad Mom was here," Callie answered. "It's good you saw for yourselves how hard the whole triangle thing is on her."

I blinked. Frankly I'd been thinking more about how hard it was on Dad, and even on Hephaestus, but yeah, I guess it wasn't fun for Aphrodite either. I mean she'd cried real tears over it and everything.

"I don't want to end up like that," Callie went on. "I don't want the three of us to be like our parents with the two of you hating each other and me torn between."

"I don't want that either," I said promptly, well ahead of smart boy.

He gave me a glare then said, "So what's your solution?"

"I can't choose any more than Mom can. I can't be either of your girlfriend."

My heart fell into my stomach and burned. Suddenly I was really sorry I'd eaten all those s'mores. How was this making things right?

"So you're blowing us both off?" Poly asked disbelieving.

"_No_!" Callie answered, surprising us. "I don't want to be left out either. I can't have two boyfriends. But I can have two friends. And so can you."

It took a few minutes for that to sink in and for once smart boy wits were no quicker than mine.

"You mean the three of us…" he began uncertainly.

"Friends." She finished for him. "Yes, that's what I mean. The three of us together, nobody left out and nobody torn in two."

"I get it," I said and my heart moved back where it belonged and my stomach stopped heaving. "Poly, she's right. We made a _great _team."

He nodded, beginning cautiously to grin. "We did, didn't we?"

Callie beamed, "The best!"

Poly turned to me, "Mark, that's it. That's the cost! We both have to give up on having Callie for a girlfriend –"

"But neither of us has to lose her either." I finished, "and you and me can go on being friends. Yeah - yeah, I'm good with that."

"Me too."

"And me." Callie's smile literally lit up the night and it really did make all right – just like the prophecy said. She put out her hand palm up and Poly and I covered it with ours. And the three of us have been a team ever since.

I won't say giving up on having Callie for my girl didn't hurt. But getting both her and Poly as friends was something. No – it's been_ everything_.


End file.
